The other day, I was too resltess to sleep after 3rd shift and then after the sun rose, so I went for a walk-about at the bog. I got to see a group of Sandhill Cranes. They are very large birds, taller and larger than Great Herons. They look something like a pterodactyl when they fly and sound something like a dinosaur when they call. As they should. They are very primordial birds, the oldest known species, having existed for some 6 million years.

Last night I visited GothicFest, with Sophia, at Excalibur Night Club. It’s the right sort of night club for that kind of event. It was interesting. I wear black. I like grinning skulls on my person…but I don’t know if I fit into the “Goth” scene, exactly (sub-genres—industrial, emo, etc.—are tedious little things, so I’ll skip them). But one black bird roosting with a bunch of other black birds looks about the same, and they caw and I caw, but in the end, I think I’m on my own little branch. Or maybe that’s the illusion we all like to maintain.

I saw strange and interesting sights and met strange and interesting people. Some where funny, some freaky, some took themselves far too seriously, and some were eccentrically charming. Most were actually pretty kind and inviting.

I did see something I hadn’t seen before. There were performers, bands, singers, DJs, displays, and booths selling dark merchandise (we’ll just assume, from this point, that everything there was “dark” and I can stop using the word). There were piercing booths, body mods, T-Shirts, action figures, post cards, and rubber dresses held up by impossible physics. Then there were book booths: fiction—yes, occultism—yes, dark spirituality (crap…I used the word again)—yes. But beyond this was a booth with fiction books and literary journals and a sign that said: “Cthulhu vs. Jesus (yes, that Jesus)”.

I thought to myself, “ . . .”

VS.

Looking further, the sign said something like “An anthology of hardboiled horror, with a Christian twist.” And so, I think, I was introduced to the Christian Goths. Curiouser and curiouser.

Coming AttractionsMark those calendars…

On November 3rd, Nick and I will be finishing the Halloween season with a special addition of the Doetsch Brothers Outdoor Theatre…yep, we’ll be dragging the projector and screen out back and screening a marathon of horror flicks. Good, bad, scary, funny, all sorts. More details to come. There will be fire and copious amounts of cocoa and coffee to keep folks warm. Start making movie recommendations.

On November 25th (tentatively at 7:30) there will be a Twilight Tales,Book of Dead Things, reading/signing event at Café Aeon in McHenry. Details to follow (I’m still in the beginning phase of setting this up) but there should be several authors present reading some cool stories about…well…dead things. Come out and give us your support. You can sample Book of Dead Things stories, including mine (“Blood, Snow, and Sparrows”) over at the website.

Baby, I Gotta Get Some Links Off My ChestHere are some links I’ve been saving, in no particular order or manner . . .

The month of Halloween is upon us, and so begin the festivities and events. First up, on Saturday, October 13th, there will be ghost stories told at Volo Bog. I’ll be making reservations on Friday. The event is free (save a small suggested donation). If interested, let me know and I’ll include you in the number. If interested and you don’t get a hold of me before Friday, or you have your own group that wants to go, just call and make your own reservations (details below–deadline is this Sunday). Anyone that wants to meet up at my place before hand is welcome (I live pretty close to the bog). Afterwards, depending, we may move on to late night fright activities…folks welcome to stay at my place…and may do something Halloweenish on Sunday the 14th (haunted houses, pumpkin patches, raising Cthulu from the void, etc.). More details on Sunday as I figure them out.

Going strong since 1986, Volo Bog's Ghost Stories is taking a new turnthis year. As listeners have done for decades, we'll gather underblankets in the dark, cold picnic area just over the hill from Volo Bogitself. Huddled together against the chill, offering each othersecurity against the scary tales from two storytellers, we'll hover onthe edges of our seats.... Well, not so fast!

Sue Black will kick off our evening with stories from her collection ofGiggles, Jumps and Squeals - a whole lot of Halloween fun and a littlespooky too! These family-friendly stories celebrate the season with justenough shivers to delight listeners of all ages. Then from Ghosts,Shivers and Screams Sue will include a witches' brew of trulyspine-tingling stories! These are the stories that cause those littlehairs on the back of your neck to rise. You might want to bring a friend-- it will be dark when you go home!

After intermission, the stories will become more complex and even a bitscarier as we welcome Don Falkos. Don's ghost stories are mostlyoriginals that are scary in a chilling rather than gruesome orterrifying way. They are geared to older listeners (age 10 & up isrecommended) as the plot gets a little trickier and Don takes us fromscarily familiar places like cars and closets to places more unknown - -- like caves! Many of Don's ghost stories can be found on his CD, The1956 Chevy Bel Air and other chilling stories.

The Friends of Volo Bog who co-sponsor the event will be requestingdonations and offering seasonal refreshments for sale. Pre-registrationis REQUIRED in order to receive a parking pass for the event - contactVolo Bog at 815-344-1294 or dnr.volobog@illinois.gov

A bit more about our storytellers:

Sue Black has charmed audiences with her warmth and creativity since1997, telling original and traditional stories from around the world. Recipient of the Prairie Area Reading Council Literacy Award, Suecombines her passion for storytelling with her delight in teachingstudents and their teachers to tell stories. It's an awesomecombination! Her work includes taking students from page to stage inresidencies and as the sponsor of student storytelling clubs. She iscurrently the Storyteller-in-Residence at Robert Clow Elementary Schoolin Naperville, Illinois.

Sue's work with student storytellers has been included in twojust-released books. In Children Tell Stories, Teaching and UsingStorytelling in the Classroom, by Martha Hamilton and Mitch Weiss, Sue'swork with student storytelling clubs is prominently cited and theauthors feature a story written by Sue about one young storyteller'sexperience. National Storytelling Press has released Telling Stories toChildren, and Sue's article on storytelling and the state learningstandards is included. Visit Sue on the Illinois Storytelling, Inc.Website at http://www.storytelling.org/directorypages/black.html

Don Falkos is a storyteller, storytelling coach, workshop leader, actor,and locksmith. Born and raised in Aurora, Illinois, Don attended theUniversity of Illinois where, after years of diligent study and monthsof tearful pleading with professors, he obtained a degree in ClassicalArchaeology and Classical Civilizations.

Don's stories include personal and humorous tales, scary and creepystories, and uplifting tales that encourage the heart, the soul, and themind. He tells a variety of folk tales, fairy tales, and stories fromcultures around the world. He tells a series of Aesop's fables thatexpose children to concepts such as honor and respect. Don also hasseveral programs of Bible stories. His style ranges from serious tohumorous, from personal to traditional, from quiet to downrightboisterous.

Don now lives with his wife and son in Madison, Wisconsin. He is a boardmember of the Northlands Storytelling Network. Visit Don on theIllinois Storytelling, Inc. Website at http

Volo Bog State Natural Area is an Illinois Department of NaturalResources site located in Ingleside, Illinois on Brandenburg Road westof U.S. Highway 12 between State Highways 120 and 134. The Friends ofVolo Bog is a Not-for-Profit 501(c)3 organization.

I wish the White Hen building would sprout giant chicken legs and run away like a Russian fairy tale.

I dislike most every inch of it. I hate working 50+ hours a week, just to barely make my minimum loan payments. I hate being at the mercy of every creep and looser that comes out of Island Lake’s cracks in the wee hours (and there are a lot of cracks…oh there are some nice late night misfits, and we can smell our own, but there are plenty of carbon based life forms I could do without on this gig). Stories of what happened to other night shift people who got robbed at many of the surrounding White Hen’s doesn’t help (I suppose I’m lucky the cops visit mine so regularly). But even worse than that…I’ve been missing out on a lot lately—had to skip out early on a good friend’s wedding reception—missed the double feature of Psycho and The Birds at the outdoor theater—and tonight is the last meeting of Twilight Tales at The Red Lion Pub…and I’m missing it.

The Red Lion, a building with a lot of ghosts, a lot of memories, built in 1880, and chalked full of creaky, precarious charm, is receiving renovations…but not just renovations…they’re tearing up the whole building and rebuilding it from the ground up. I know the Red Lion will be back…I know I’ll still get to read at Twilight Tales (they’re temporarily moving to another location)…but I’ll miss the old Red Lion. I spend enough time in safe, modern buildings…I want to drink rum and beer and read ghost stories in a place that speaks and creaks, under the beer garden tree, over a congress of very large, and by now very literary, rats.

Bah.Medieval TimesAs far as I can tell, the Medieval Times gig did not pan out. My little sister got a call back over a week ago and will be doing further auditions…but I haven’t heard anything.

Alas…and all that.

However, breath expended to cheer me up would be better spent wishing my little sis luck.Auxiliary Escape PodsI’m sure there must be another way to escape this White Hen. The problem is it sucks up so much of my time…it’s hard to take the time to make the escape—this convenience store is like a nasty, self-fulfilling prophecy…one that sells tasty sandwiches and burnt coffee.

I’m applying, near every day, for various teaching, tutoring, and writing type positions. Haven’t heard anything back yet.

Hyena In My ThroatWhite Hen did afford me a moment of amusement. I was working, per usual, when a couple of college-age guys came in the convenience store. They made their purchase, looked at me, did a double take, and one of them said:

“Dude. Dude! OK. I’ve got two questions. First, have you ever seen the movie, Clerks? And—”

“Yes,” I interrupted, “And I know what the second question is, and yes.”

“Dude!”

I then gave them an abbreviated story of the Halloweens and events that Nick and I went as Jay and Silent Bob—how we won several hundred dollars at a costume contest and how dressing like the duo even got us on stage with Jenna Jameson once upon a time. They were impressed, thanked me, and took their purchases and were about to leave…when the guy who spoke up originally suddenly stiffened. I could almost hear the gears turning and saw the light bulb over the head flicker precariously, the wattage far exceeding the fortitude of the filament. He was in the throes of an epiphany. He turned around, came back and delivered it unto me…

“Dude, do you not find it ironic that someone who looks like Silent Bob now works as a . . . . clerk?”

Sometimes, despite ourselves, we laugh. Hard.Autumn RitualsI’ve developed a ritual of sorts, over the last two weeks.

By the end of a graveyard shift at the Hen, my back and feet hurt. A lot. I’m more of a shower person…but I’ve started soaking in the tub after most shifts. But with so little spare time…I hate to waste it…I wanted to validate it somehow. Absorbing stories is enough validation for my time so I started bringing the I-Pod with me. I soak in lava hot water, turn the lights out, and sit in sense deprivation, in a warm womb of audio fiction via the head-phones.

In the dark of Sunday morning, not feeling like drawing a bath, I felt like something different, to celebrate the coming of my one day off and October (or rather, October’s Eve). I grabbed my coat and fedora to keep warm, sat in the back yard, and smoked rum-dipped cigarillos, and listened to some of Ray Bradbury’s Something Wicked this Way Comes (a quintessential October story) and stared into the forest until it stared back…or the sun rose…

I don’t remember which happened first.

Ghost Stories at the BogI’ll make another post on this, with more details, tomorrow—but on Saturday, October 13th, there will be professional storytellers telling ghost tales at Volo Bog. It’s a very fun event. I’ll likely be going and I’ll likely make reservations come Thursday. If you want to come, let me know, and I’ll reserve a spot.